To Rule the Restless Wave
by Y St. Ace
Summary: *Chapter 4 Up* Bellemere's ready to become one of the few and proud.  But are they ready for her?
1. Prologue - To Rule the Restless Wave

Author's Notes:

I don't own One Piece, characters, or anything created by Eiichiro Oda. But the way the words go together – that's all mine.

==============

Marie has left me.

She did not pack up and take her things from the home we have made together. She never could do such a thing, no matter how I might have drove her to it. She would never willingly leave this island; the trees outside this window grow blood oranges – her blood and the blood of those that came before her. 

My dryad never asked me to choose her or the ocean because she knew my blood was salt water. She let me be free and it may have killed her. 

I should not have let her work so hard. I should not have let her weaken so that the fever could take her so easily. I should have, I could have, I would have…

I look to what the future holds and I am afraid. Marie has left me with a precious charge. I cannot fail in this; but I am not a good man and I am now alone. 

Marie was my anchor and I drift without her.

Where can I find the strength to rule the restless wave that tosses my heart and soul through life?

In a new anchor; weighted with love and chained with will, attached to my lifeboat which contains my daughter.

Bellemere.

She is more beautiful to me than all the waters of this world.


	2. Room Did Sway

Author's Notes:

I don't own One Piece, characters, or anything created by Eiichiro Oda. But the way the words go together – that's all mine.

==============

Part 1 - Kokoyashi Village

Chapter 1 – Room Did Sway

"She did it again, Gen!"

From the knocking on the door, it sounded as if the visitor was _thisclose_ to pounding. Gen looked at the clock by his bed. It was an indecent time to be awake and he got up reluctantly. He took his uniform from its place on the chair, where he had laid it out carefully the night before, and he put on his hat as well. He might as well look the part of a police officer, even if he still didn't quite feel like one.

It was Malley, from Gosa, the next village over. Bellemere had gotten herself into especially hot water this time, if the fat bar owner had bothered to walk all this way in the middle of the night. 

"Come on in," Gen said, opening the door further to allow for the girth of his visitor.

Malley drew himself up indignantly and launched into his tirade immediately. "Bellemere is out of control. She harassed my other customers, broke bottles, she smashed up a chair, stormed out without paying and was, and was, was – " 

Gen interrupted the pub owner before he had a stroke. "Have you told Chimo?" Chimo was Gosa's officer and the one who should have been handling this.

"Chimo is fully aware of what Bellemere's done," Malley said. "He was the one she smashed the chair on."

It took Gen a moment to regain his composure. "A chair."

"On his head," Malley said pointedly.

Gen swallowed his fury and said, "Do you know where she went?"

"No one has been able to find her."

"Oh, I will. She'll wish I hadn't too." A tally of the damages suddenly danced in his head. "Malley, let me get my wallet."

Malley took his arm before he could go back into the house. "We'll work that out later. Just find her. She was saying some pretty strange things tonight."

==============

He was ready to give up. Bellemere wasn't in any of the side streets where she usually slept off her nights of bingeing. Wherever she might have run off to, she would be nursing a severe headache in the morning. That's when he would give her an earful – when she was too hungover to talk back and too sick to her stomach to escape.

Gen rubbed his face and wondered what time it was. Being woken up like that was not the way to start the day, the night, whatever hour it may be. He was still sleepy; he couldn't even remember what day it was.

What day it was… 

The lantern clanked and bounced in his hand as he took off at a sprint. He should have remembered. Had anyone in the village remembered? He thought she had been quiet lately. 

It took him only a minute to run to the graveyard. 

The light from the lantern washed over Bellemere. It was probably the only thing that had washed over her in days. He could smell her from here.

She was lying on her stomach with her head almost touching the double gravestone, her hair hanging in her face. Her left hand was gripping an empty bottle; her right hand was curled into a fist, ready for a fight. 

The problem was she wasn't fighting anything that could be struck.

A dark thought flitted through his head. He knelt down and placed a hand on her back and confirmed that she was breathing. He took the bottle away and, with policeman's eyes, noticed that there was dirt under her fingernails of her hand. When he rolled her over, he saw the earth staining the front of her shirt and the furrows in the ground on top of the grave.

Something had to give. Gen was afraid that it would be her.

He picked her up, surprised at how light she was. With the size of the chip on her shoulder, she always appeared to weigh much more. He maneuvered her onto his back and began to carry her piggyback down to the village.

"Gen?" she said thickly. Her breath stank.

"What?" 

"Home?" she managed.

"I'm not carrying you up that hill. We're going to Doc's."

She muttered something incomprehensible and obscene, then lapsed into silence. They were on the outskirts of the village when she spoke again.

"Gonna barf."

Gen waited on the road for her to finish emptying the contents of her stomach into the bushes. He didn't help her; she wouldn't have accepted anyway. Then they set off again.

He balanced Bellemere on his back and knocked on Doc's door at the same time. The lights came on slowly. "Who is it?" the older man called through the door.

"Just me."

The latch was slid back. "And, Bellemere, I'm guessing."

She started slipping and he hiked her up further onto his back. "Can you check her out?"

Doc opened the door. "Let's see what the cat dragged in."

Gen started towards the infirmary, but Doc motioned for him to take her to the back bedroom. "What did she have?" Doc asked.

"I found an empty bottle of wine in her hand, but she was drinking at Malley's before. I don't know how much or what."

"My bet is on whatever was cheapest." Doc said he threw back the covers. Gen started to put her on the bed. "She's filthy. Help me get her out of these clothes."

Unlike the doctor, Gen hadn't perfected his professional mien. He swallowed reflexively, glad that the light of the lamp was low and would hide the searing flush that was rising on his face, but he complied. They put her in a bathrobe and then under the covers. Doc checked her pulse and then asked, "Did she – "

"All over the side of the road."

"Then most of it is out of her system and she'll only have the mother of all hangovers in the morning." Doc put a chair next to the bed and stopped Gen from sitting down. "There are some blankets in the closet. Get some sleep."

"I'm awake. I might as well keep an eye on her."

"You have work tomorrow."

"So do you," Gen countered.

"I'm the doctor, and I get up at four in any case. You go take a nap. I imagine you'll have a big enough mess to clean up tomorrow as it is."

Gen decided to let the old man win this one and went to the couch, but he was awake at seven. He left quietly, intent on making a few apologies to some people in Gosa.

He found Chimo already sitting outside of the police station. There was a large bandage peaking out from underneath the other officer's hat. "Did you find your problem child?" the man asked, when he saw Gen.

"She was sleeping it off." There was no reason to tell Chimo where she had been though. "About your head…"

"This?" Chimo touched his temple. "My old lady gives me worse."

"Bellemere'll be around to apologize later today."

"What is she doing about the damages at the bar?" Chimo asked.

"I talked to Malley already. I'm footing the bill until she scrapes some cash together – "

Chimo interrupted him. "If you stop covering for the girl, maybe she would take responsibility for herself, Gen. If she's old enough to get into these messes then she is old enough to deal with the consequences."

Gen nodded. It was a nod acknowledging that the other man had spoken, and not the nod of agreement. 

Chimo nodded back. It was the nod of a man who thought the other man was a fool.

They knew where they stood with each other.

"How are you finding the Kokoyashi beat?" Chimo asked.

Gen laughed. "It's boring. The biggest crime is - "

"Orange poaching. Or is it Bellemere? She's her own crime wave." Chimo chortled at his own joke, making it less funny than it already was.

"I'll be heading back now. I have some paperwork and don't want to keep you."

"Keep an eye out for the orange poachers, Gen," Chimo called out, as he left.

==============

The shutters were thrown open and the sun poured in like a tidal wave. Bellemere covered her face with the pillow.

"Get up," Doc ordered.

She couldn't muster coherent speech, so she resorted to moaning in protest.

"I've done more before nine o clock than you're going to do all day." Bellemere tried to fend him off but he took the pillow from her. "I don't run a bed and breakfast for just anyone. Take a shower and get dressed. By the time you're through, Gen will be back, we can eat, and you can start groveling for his forgiveness."

She opened her eyes reluctantly. "Why would I – " A flash of memory; a few beer bottles, a chair, a piggyback ride. "Oh."

"'Oh' is right. Practice being remorseful while you're showering."

Bellemere sat up and realized what she was wearing. "My clothes."

"I contemplated burning them and settled on hanging them outside on the line to air," Doc said from the hallway.

"You washed them?" she called back.

"I'm sorry. Is 'maid' written on my forehead? I put them outside so they wouldn't stink up my house. And what part of 'Take a shower' don't you understand? I can smell you from out here."

Her last bath was a faded memory. Bellemere sniffed her armpits and grimaced. It would be nice to be clean.

The distance from the bed to the bathroom was immense. As she held onto the towel rack, she reflected that it was much more embarrassing to be hungover in someone else's home than in her own.

She let the water run hot and hard as she tried to get the dirt out from under her fingernails. Perhaps if she stood under the water long enough her hangover would be steamed out of her. 

Perhaps if she stood under the water long enough, she would wash away.

After her shower, she found a set of clothes Doc had laid out for her. She went into the kitchen in shorts that hung around her knees and a loud flower print shirt that was fashionable with the older men on the island. Gen and Doc paused in their conversation.

"Give me black knee socks and I'll be ready for retirement," she said, as she sat down at the table. She was surprised that her stomach wasn't churning at the smell of the sausages and fried potatoes.

"It's alive," Gen said dryly.

"Reluctantly," Bellemere retorted, but not with her usual vivacity.

"Have something to eat. And here's some juice." Doc offered her a glass.

She made a face. "You don't think I don't get enough orange juice? I only _own_ an orchard."

Gen took a sip of his coffee and refrained from explaining that owning an orchard and working an orchard were two different things.

Doc pushed the glass at her. "You're drinking it, young lady."

"Coffee," she countered.

"Do you want a very long winded medical lecture about the ill effects of alcohol on the human body?" 

She rolled her red-rimmed eyes. "Anything but that."

He removed the coffeepot from the table before she could disobey him. "I would hate to see the state of your liver," Doc muttered as he went back into the kitchen.

Gen put his cup down. "I'll walk with you to Gosa later."

"Doc said you already went. Softening everyone up for me?" she asked lightly, congratulating herself on keeping the tremor out of her voice. It wouldn't do to let Gen think that she was felt anything like guilt. She picked up the mantle of 'unconcerned slacker' and found that it still fit. "Look. I can pay the old man back. I don't have money right now, but I'll sell some more oranges. Problem solved."

Gen shook his head. "Who are you planning on selling them to?"

Bellemere examined her breakfast thoughtfully and realized this was the first meal in a week that she hadn't drunk.

"You have to _work_, Bellemere, by doing things like setting up contracts with buyers, hiring hands for the orchards, and at the very least, trimming the trees," Gen lectured.

The sausage had flecks in it. She wondered what they were. She hoped they were spices; she hated to think of the alternative.

"Are you listening to me?"

She snapped her fingers and grinned. "I got it! I'll pay with something better than money!"

"What's that?"

"Best currency on the island. Myself!"

Gen's knife and fork clattered onto his plate. "Bellemere!"

She grinned like a wolf over her breakfast. "The impression I make lasts much longer than anything you can buy with mere money."

Gen sputtered again, at a loss for words, and praying that she didn't think about who might have helped get her out of her clothes last night…

"What is it? Gen, are you choking?" Doc loomed in the doorway, carrying a plate of fruit. Oranges were a main feature.

"I'm being indecent," Bellemere explained and then put a big forkful of potatoes in her mouth.

"Ah, what's new," Doc muttered.

The rest of the breakfast consisted of Doc lecturing Bellemere about the state of her health, the continued effects of her drinking, and wondering exactly how many of her brain cells had been killed by last night's binge. Bellemere bore it with the injured air of a put upon martyr while Gen pretended he was more awake than he really was. The late nights and early mornings that involved cleaning up after Bellemere were beginning to wear on him.

When she'd filled her belly with the food, which had tasted even better than usual because it was free and hadn't been cooked by her, she pushed away from the table. "Thanks. It was great."

"Where are you going?" Gen asked, as he sipped his coffee.

She rolled her eyes. "I'll go see Malley and Chimo and apologize."

"It's early. They won't be expecting you yet."

"All the better the reason to go, huh? I'll catch them off guard, keep them from planning what they're going to lecture me about."

"You aren't embarrassed to go out, looking like that?"

Bellemere glanced down at her new clothes. "No."

Gen picked up his hat. "Then let's go."


	3. Shock Me Sane

Chapter 2 – Shock Me Sane

Bellemere was right. Chimo had assumed that she'd be spending the rest of the day draped over a toilet, cursing her misfortune for being born. He wasn't expecting her to show up, smiling and contrite, on his doorstep before lunch.

Chimo was more insulted that her body wasn't punishing her for what she'd put in it last night than he was about her attempt to bash his head in with a chair. "Are you sure you don't need something to eat?" he asked, hoping to see her turn green. "How about a pickle and salami sandwich? My wife packed one in my lunch today." 

"It's kind of early," she said reluctantly. 

"Well, if you don't want it," Chimo said, shrugging.

Free was free however. "Sure. Pass it over."

She leaned against the wall and munched quietly while Chimo and Gen discussed a few announcements that had been sent by Marines.

"More pirates in East Blue?"

Chimo glowered, partly because Bellemere was enjoying his sandwich so much. "More every year. If the Marines don't get their act into gear, we're gonna have more pirates in these waters than there are fish in the sea."

They went to Malley's next.

Malley whistled through his teeth when he saw her come in the front door. "You can punish yourself like you did last night and then saunter in here? Girl, you've got your daddy's drinking genes."

Gen froze, but the comment didn't seem to bother her. She smiled weakly and gestured around the room. "You got an extra broom? I'm going to stick around and help clean up," she said to Gen. "It's only fair. But you can go back. I know you have work to do."

Gen glanced at Malley, who shrugged. "See you later then."

==============

Gen paid a visit to his mother before heading back to his office. He let himself in and walked into the kitchen. "Hello, mom. What's for lunch?"

His mother held up her knife in a mock threatening gesture. "Whatever happened to knocking at the door, young man? You act like you still live at home, coming and going as you please, expecting free meals. Next, you'll be dropping off your laundry."

He avoided the point of the knife and dropped a kiss on her forehead. "Sorry, mom."

"And take that hat off in here. Have you forgotten your manners?"

He obediently removed it.

"That's my boy. How's Bellemere?"

He sat heavily in a chair at the kitchen table and his eyebrows knitted together. "Hungover."

"Sit up straight," she corrected automatically, before turning back to her cutting board. The quick tapping of the blade as it hit the board filled the kitchen. "No wonder. I heard that she practically drank the bar dry over in Gosa. Thank goodness the council decided against turning our village 'wet.' She'd never be sober if she could stay right in the village to do her drinking."

"I found her in the cemetery."

The dicing stopped. "Oh dear."

He fiddled with the place mat in front of him. "I forgot too."

"Of course you did. You have your new job and new responsibilities and –"

"Don't make excuses for me."

She put her arms around him, narrowly missing his jugular with the knife she had in her hand. "You can't blame yourself. Of all the people who doesn't have an excuse, it's me."

Gen watched the point of the knife carefully. "Mom…"

"Goodness, sorry, dear." She put the knife on the table and sat in chair next to him. "I feel horrible about this. I promised Marie that would watch over her daughter and then..."

His mother fell silent, musing on that promise. She and Marie had been friends since youth. She hadn't approved when Marie had married Bellemere's father; he was a man of the sea at heart and could not stand being rooted to the land, while Marie loved nothing more than tending to the trees that had been in her family for generations. Then the fevers had come and Marie had died. 

And since her husband had died, Marie's daughter had grown as wild as the grove that she had loved. 

She sighed. "I should make it up to her. Why don't you find her and invite her to dinner tonight? I'll ask the doctor too. We'll make a regular party of it."

Normally Gen would have protested being forced to share a table with the girl, but this time he agreed with his mother. They had let Bellemere down by forgetting the anniversary of her father's death. He knew how he felt when it came to his own father's death and while he didn't feel the need to drink himself unconscious, he knew it was partly because he had his mother with him. Bellemere wasn't that lucky; she had no blood relatives left. A dinner was the least that they could do to make some sort of apology. "When I get off of work, I'll ask her."

==============

Someone once said that the world was 90 percent water and the rest of it was land. And someone else once said that the land was just poop from giant goldfish. So the ten percent of the world that people lived on was shit. That was a real comforting thought.

Bellemere lit up and let the smoke fill her lungs.

__

I'll have dinner with me when I get back, so have the stove ready.

She exhaled. Lies. 

All the poetry she had ever read (which wasn't much) used awe-inspiring words to describe the ocean; immense, vast, and deep. She had a few more to words to add to the list; cruel, impartial, and mercurial.

This had been their favorite spot. They'd had picnics here a few times, when he wasn't busy working in the orchard or fishing. He loved to fish.

__

Don't get into any trouble, y'hear.

She always got into trouble, especially when he didn't take her out on the ocean. It hadn't seemed fair, so she went into the village and caused some mischief. Hunri, the village officer before Gen, had taken her inside the police box, by her ear, just as the storm broke.

Storm wasn't the word for it. It had been a squall; a temper tantrum on the sea that blew hard and fast and then blew away in less than an hour.

She had stayed with Hunri at the police box, waiting for her father to come and get her.

They found the wreckage of the boat that evening. His body washed up at the bottom of the cliff the next morning.

__

I'll be back, Bellemere 

"And I'm still waiting," she said to no one in particular as she took a single swig from the bottle.

"For me?" Gen asked. She cocked her head to the side and saw him standing behind her.

"Wasn't talking to you." She returned to watching the ocean. You couldn't turn your back on the ocean or it'd get you.

"You could at least dry out before you drink yourself unconscious again." 

She didn't rise to it. She didn't even turn around. But she took the bottle in her hand and slowly poured the contents out onto the ground in front of her. She'd done this every year, ever since she'd been old enough to scam, steal, and buy the drink. One gulp for herself and the rest for her father – she didn't doubt that he got thirsty, wherever he was.

"That's more like it," Gen said, not understanding the significance of the act.

"Gen. Please," she said faintly, as she stubbed her cigarette out on the grass.

"What?"

She sweetly smiled at him over her shoulder. "Please piss off."

"My mother wants you to come to dinner," he said sourly. "Is your answer to that 'piss off' as well?"

Bellemere knew what side her bread was buttered on – the free side. "Who all is going to be there?" she asked nonchalantly.

"My mother, Doc, and me."

She brushed herself off and glanced towards the sea one more time, half hoping to see a sail come over the horizon; a ghost ship. "Sounds like a party. Sure, I'll come."

She was subdued as they walked down the ridge towards his mother's house. He was just about to ask her how clean up at Malley's had gone when she spoke up first.

"Do you ever wonder?" she asked, as she kicked at a stone.

"Wonder what?"

"When your mom and Doc first got it on?"

She had gotten just the reaction she wanted. Gen was one of the few people she knew who did a full face flush. But she knew it would fade if she let him regain his composure, so she pressed on.

"I mean, she's been a widow for years and he's always coming over for dinner and you know, it just seems like it's probably happened by now, don't you think?"

"I am not discussing this," he said, taking longer strides, forcing her to jog to catch up with him.

"Why not? You have to have thought about it."

He sniffed derisively. "Not everyone is as warped as you are."

"They're the only two single people their age in the village. Doc's a bit younger, but not much and – " 

"Be quiet," he said firmly, hoping she would get the hint.

"Your mom – "

"No," he growled. They were at the outskirts of town now and he picked up the pace, wanting to get home as quickly as possible.

"You have to admit – "

"So help me, Bellemere…"

Bellemere grinned. "Yup, Doc and your mom, knockin' boots – "

He grabbed her by the ear and twisted it hard. "If you say another word about my mother, I'll make sure they never find your body. And I'm a police officer – I know how to do it right."

She grimaced in pain and then cried, "Are you seeing this, people? You're all witnesses!"

The 'bystanders' smiled indulgently at Bellemere's antics as Gen led her, ear first, up to his front door. He kept a firm hold till he heard his mother approach the door.

"Genzo. Bellemere, hello dear. Dinner's just about finished." She hustled them inside. "Doc's already here. He's been helping me with a few things," she said breezily.

"Really? Helping you with 'things'? That's very nice of him," Bellemere said. She snickered as Gen turned another brilliant shade of red.

His mother noticed as well. "Genzo, did you get sunburned? You should wear sunscreen if you're going to be out all day. Well, we're almost ready. Oh my goodness, Bellemere, what happened to your ear? It's all red!"

"Bug bite," Bellemere said quickly.

His mother nodded knowingly. "The bug's are awful this year, aren't they? So bothersome."

"And big," Bellemere added.

"Why don't you two wash up then come out to the kitchen?"

The table was loaded with food. It was simple fare because no one in the village was what could be called well-to-do. Gen's mother knew how to turn the most mundane menu into a feast though and it was the middle of summer when the fruits and vegetables were the freshest and when the river fish were sweetest.

Doc told stories of his youth, such as how he got through medical school, working at a tattoo parlor near a Marine base. Gen was the only one shocked and appalled; his mother apparently knew the story already. In Bellemere's eyes, Doc's stock rose one hundred points and she begged him to tattoo her.

The older man laughed. "My tattooing days are over. I stick to healing the body; not decorating it."

"Only hoodlums have tattoos," Gen muttered.

Bellemere responded by sticking out her tongue. It went like that most of the evening.

Neither of them noticed the glances that passed over their heads.


	4. Tiny Bubbles

Chapter 3 – Tiny Bubbles

Bellemere threw her arm over the back of her chair and sighed with satisfaction. "That was great! I feel like I'm going to burst." 

"What a pity. Does that mean there's no room for ice cream?" Doc asked.

Bellemere grinned. "I can make room."

"Why don't you two run out and get some? My treat." Doc tossed a few coins at Gen, who caught them easily.

He stared at the money. "I don't want ice cream." 

"But Bellemere does. Young ladies do not walk around in the middle of the night by themselves," his mother said sternly.

"It's not even eight yet," Gen retorted.

"More for me if he doesn't come," Bellemere pointed out.

Gen's mother glared at him from across the table. "Didn't you tell me that there are supposed to be more pirates in area? She can't be walking around alone when god knows who is out there. Besides it's indecent."

"_She's_ indecent," Gen muttered, picking up his hat, as Bellemere bounded to the door.

"And afterwards make sure to walk Bellemere back to her house," his mother called after him.

Gen rolled his eyes and opened the door.

"We'll leave you two alone now," Bellemere said, winking at Gen.

"Bellemere," he threatened, shutting the door behind them.

They heard Bellemere through the door. "Hurry up. Ice cream's awaiting!"

Doc began cleaning some of dishes away. "You don't think that was a bit heavy-handed? They're sure to figure it out."

She laughed. "Heavy-handed? Those two are oblivious."

==============

Thom, the owner of one of two ice cream shops on the island, was washing dishes when the duo came into his store. He grinned at Bellemere; she had a sweet tooth on her and was in all the time.

"Hey Gen. Escorting prisoners tonight?" He wiped his hands on his apron and went to the counter. "What can I get you?"

Bellemere studied the freezer cases, eyes darting over the different labels. "You go first, Gen. I don't know what I want."

Gen gave her the money. "I said I don't want ice cream."

"In that case…" Bellemere rattled off her order, naming four different flavors, all which to Gen sounded quite disgusting when put on top of each other. Strawberry with mint chocolate chip?

Gen waited while Bellemere dithered over waffle or regular cone, then watched the ice cream man build her frozen tower with expert efficiency. Thom handed it over the counter and into Bellemere's impatient hands, then pointed at a box near the register.

"We're running a promotion. Take one." Thom offered a box filled with folded scraps of paper. Bellemere paid and then rummaged in the box. She pulled out one, and handed it back.

Thom read the slip. "Too bad. Your turn, Gen." Gen took the first paper on top and pass it over the counter.

"A winner! Hang on a second." Thom bent down behind the counter and then produced the prize with a flourish.

"What am I going to do with this?" Gen asked. The vanes of the gold foil pinwheel turned slowly.

"Give it to me, if you don't want it," Bellemere said and grasped at it but he put it just out of her reach. Bellemere gave up and went back to eating her ice cream, which was melting rapidly.

He watched the vanes spin a few times before sticking it in his pants pocket. 

"I have some work to do and need to get back to my house, but my mother isn't going to give me any peace unless I can assure her that I got you home," Gen said.

"Without me being attacked by werewolves or pirates or the Bogeyman?" she teased. "Or maybe all three at once?"

"So can we go?" he asked, irritated. Did she have to turn everything into a joke?

She started walking, more concerned with eating than teasing Gen. After all, she could do that any day.

Gen watched her strut up the path. Here she was happy as a clam, when last night she'd been unconscious in a graveyard. 

The more he that thought about it the more annoyed he got. Half the girls her age were either married or learning a trade; but Bellemere drifted like a rudderless boat, drinking, smoking, laughing and expecting other people, namely himself, to come to the rescue when she was washed out to sea.

And at the end of the day, she ate ice cream. This was ridiculous.

He rubbed the back of his neck and yawned. He'd been up almost thirty-six hours now with only that short nap at Doc's in the morning to keep him going. He was ready for bed.

Bellemere had been quiet for some time. That meant that she had been thinking. This didn't bode well for him. No doubt she was dreaming up some outrageous thing to say to drive him crazy. Couldn't she act her age?

She took a breath and Gen readied himself.

"My dad said that stars are what you turn into when you die. Isn't that stupid?"

Gen looked over the trees and considered the idea. It was a clear night and the lights littered the sky like broken glass. "You never know. It could be true."

"Creepy. Right now, thousands and thousands and thousands of dead people could be staring at us."

"I think they have better things to do with their time."

"What are they thinking? About us?"

"Who?"

"The dead people. The stars."

"I dunno. They probably don't care about us. They're concerned with people they know."

"Then what about the ones who know us?" She didn't have to name names. Gen knew who she meant. "What do you think _they're_ thinking?"

"What I think?" They walked in silence while Gen mulled over the question in his mind. He ran his hand over his chin, which was quickly becoming stubbly. He hadn't had an opportunity to shave that morning and the reason why was swaggering up the hill beside him.

Bellemere was being serious for a moment; it was time to take advantage of that. "I think right now that if our parents were looking at us, they'd be smiling."

Bellemere nodded in agreement.

It was now or never. "But if they had been looking at you last night, they would have been very disappointed in you."

She sucked in her breath like she'd been hit. Gen winced inwardly. He decided to keep going and try and explain a little better.

"What I – "

His teeth knocked together as his head flew backwards. The ground hit him just as hard as Bellemere had; he struggled to get his breath back.

She leaned over him and grabbed him by lapels of his shirt, shaking him. "Never, never, never say that again!"

"A little too close to home?" he asked sharply, through the blood that was filling his mouth.

She stood up, stepping on his stomach as hard as she could, then fled. Gen caught a glimpse of her running into the woods as he pushed himself out of the dirt.

He spat and pushed at his teeth with his tongue; all present and accounted for. Then he groaned, but not from pain. His mother was going to kill him.

==============

"Chimo, the door," his wife muttered. She pulled the pillow over her head and went back to sleep.

He found Fill Malley was on the doorstep. "Dad wants you to come quick. It's that girl again."

Chimo cursed his way to the bar; no god was left unblasphemied. Malley greeted him at the door. "She was like this when she got here. She even brought her own bottle this time."

Chimo peered into the smoky interior. She was singing at the top of her lungs; considering her escapades last night, she was a paragon of subdued behavior. Most of the patrons were either ignoring her or smiling at her performance. "Has she done anything?"

"I think she's building up to it."

Malley stepped back to make room for the officer, who stepped in and then moved off to the side. He wanted to watch the girl for a bit before escorting her out. He had to make sure she was far away from anything she could use as a weapon, like furniture or other people.

"Come on, everyone! You know the words," she shouted. She held the brown bottle in front of her, like a microphone.

"Goddam, girl. What do you think you're doing coming in here, acting all crazy?"

Bellemere's eyes slowly focused on the old man crouched over his drink sitting at the bar counter. He had the tanned leathery skin of most of the fishermen on the island. "I'm just having some fun here, gramps. You gotta problem with that?"

"I've got a problem with children who can't hold their drink," he said, sipping at the last dregs of his whiskey.

She stumbled over to where he sat and pulled out a stool. "Can too," she said darkly. "I'd beat you in a drinking contest any damn day of the week."

"Did I ask you to sit, girl?" the man said, not bothering to look at her. Chimo recognized the man; a retired Marine who lived on the east side of the island. Chimo began to feel sorry for the girl.

"No one tells me what to do," she retorted and plunked herself down, almost sliding off the leather of the stool and onto the ground. Then she got a look at the tattoo on his shoulder. "Especially not some washed up old fogey Marine."

The ex-Marine stared at his glass. "You must think you're pretty tough."

"I know I am," she said proudly.

"But you'd never survive the Marines, girl. They'd chew you up from the ground up."

"Whatever," she said breezily. "What does an old man like you know anyway?"

"An old man who could take you any day of the week," he retorted, throwing her words back. Chimo didn't doubt that he could.

"Just because you're an ex-Marine doesn't mean you scare me. I mean, if _you_ can be a Marine, _anyone_ could be a Marine. Hell, _I_ could be a Marine." Bellemere tried to take another drink out of her bottle, but most of it ended up down her shirt.

The man began to chuckle. "You? As a Marine. That'll be the day."

A few other patrons laughed too. The comforting fog that enveloped her brain could not keep Bellemere from turning a darker shade of red, once she realized that they were laughing at her.

"I can too. I can do whatever I damn well put my mind to!" She gestured pointedly with the bottle, spilling more of it, and causing another wave of chuckles.

The man finished his drink. Then he stood up and walked away, not even glancing at the girl who was sitting next to him. At the door, he paused. "Being a Marine takes a lot of what you don't have, girl."

Bellemere snorted derisively, a very unwise gesture since she was drinking at the time. She choked and gagged, giving everyone else another reason to snicker at her.

Malley rang the last call bell and the patrons filed out. Chimo stayed until Bellemere found the door and stumbled through it. He nodded at Malley, then followed after her. When he was sure that she had left Gosa, he went back to his house, glad for some sleep.

==============

Big THANKS to rufiangel for being my beta reader! Round of applause for her, minna!

I won't do author notes every time, but I figured I should put this in now. The chapter titles; 'Room Did Sway' and 'Tiny Bubbles' come from the lyrics of two military cadences; if anyone ever wants the words I can sing them to you. : ) 'Tiny Bubbles' also refers to the nitrogen bubbles that build up and cause the bends.

'Shock Me Sane' is a lyric from the Tori Amos song 'Cruel.' 


	5. Halo Jump

Chapter 4 – Halo Jump

The hum of the insects woke Bellemere up. Cicadas; it was summer and they never ceased their screaming. She couldn't blame them. They'd spent years of their life in the underground, blind and sensory deprived.

Only the cicadas were more vocal about it than she was.

Bellemere stared at the ceiling. From her vantagepoint from the floor, it looked pretty dirty.

Another night of drinking, another morning waking up in the same clothes she'd worn the day before. 

She glanced at the clock. She made a bet with herself that the 'Gen Lecture Series: Part 213' would begin at half past four. If she was right, she'd have a beer. If she was wrong, she would have a cigarette instead.

Her stomach growled and she pushed herself up. She thought there might be a can of something in one of the cupboards.

Cigarettes; there was half a pack still on the counter. That was a good enough substitute for breakfast. She hunted for some matches and when she found them, she lit up.

She pulled the smoke into her lungs, then exhaled slowly. Much better, she thought. But she could not escape the breaking pressure that had built up in her chest ever since last night.

__

…they would have been very disappointed in you…

She crushed the pack in her hand. What the hell did he know anyway?

__

…a lot of what you don't have, girl…

She had lots. Stupid old man. She propped herself up against the counter and counted her blessings. She had this house and this land and…

Bellemere looked around the dirty kitchen, illuminated by the weak light filtering through the shutters. The sink was filled with dishes, her collection of empty bottles were artistically littered on the counter, complimented by crumbs from a thousand rushed dinners. The ashtray was overflowing. Bills were piled on the kitchen table, her clothes were in a pile in the corner. She'd cleared a path to her bathroom; junk covered the rest of the floorboards.

Very slowly, she slid to the floor. The cigarette dangled at the corner of her mouth. 

She had lots, she thought perversely.

Sobriety sucked. She closed her eyes, concentrating on the taste of the tobacco and paper.

She couldn't go on feeling like this forever; worthless, tired. It was like she was running just barely ahead of a wave that was chasing her towards a cliff. If she stumbled she would be washed away and drowned. If she didn't make a decision on her direction soon, well, that cliff was coming up pretty quick…

The view over the cliff, her father's favorite place, loomed in her mind. She had stared over the edge many times, watching the surf hit the rocks below, wondering about the temperature of the water, and it always drove her to ask the same question of herself.

To jump or not to jump. 

Bellemere cupped her face in her hands. Each time, she walked away from the cliff –

__

…very disappointed in you…

- hoping that next time she would find the conviction to choose one way or the other.

__

…what you don't have, girl…

No more putting it off. Now it was decision time.

__

…disappointed…what you don't have…

Time to jump.

But first she needed to write a letter; her explanation to the others. That was only fair.

==============

Gen had the utter misfortune of having his mother pay a visit to him at the office that afternoon.

"I brought some cookies and my goodness! What happened?" she asked, aghast at the livid bruise on his cheek and the cut on his lip. "Was it a bandit?" 

"It wasn't a bandit," he said, pulling the brim of his hat down lower over his eyes.

She jumped to the only other explanation. "Did Bellemere do this?"

He didn't answer.

"Genzo, what did you say to her?" his mother snapped. 

He forgot that he was maintaining a stony silence about the whole incident and retorted angrily. "I told her the truth! I told her that her parents would be very disappointed in her if they saw what she had become."

His mother turned white. "Young man, you didn't!"

"I did. And I'd do it again. Someone had to tell her."

She put her head in her hands. "This is my fault. I raised you, so I'm to blame."

"Mom, please." The melodramatics were ridiculous.

She sighed with exasperation and spoke as if she were addressing a particularly dense child. "You don't say thing like that to people you care about, Genzo."

"I do care about her. That's _why_ I told her."

"Correcting her every little mistake doesn't leave an impression of caring," she said gently. She anticipated his retort and threw him a withering glance. "Unless it's from your mother. Correction is a mother's right."

Gen smothered his smile, but his mother caught it. "I didn't catch your father by nitpicking his every fault. I had enough sense to try and change him after we were married, when he couldn't get away."

Gen nearly choked. "You don't actually think that I'm considering…you aren't saying that…that I…me and…that _punk kid_…"

"Bellemere is hardly a child. She's only a few years younger than yourself and look at you! You're Kokoyashi's village officer."

"She's an alcoholic, violent criminal! And you think I want to _date_ her?"

His mother smiled. "There is that saying about protesting too much, Genzo."

Gen crossed his arms. "This is ridiculous! We are not having this conversation." 

His mother glowered at him. "Yes, we are."

Three hours later, he found himself getting ready for a date. 

At least that's what his mom was calling it. He was calling it an apology. Doc wasn't calling it anything, but he was on hand, assisting where he was needed. An undertaking of this magnitude needed plenty of back up support – especially when it concerned Bellemere.

Doc looked him over critically, finally deciding that Gen had passed the test. "Your plan? From the beginning, please."

Gen took a deep breath and recited, "I'm going to step in the door before she can shut it in my face, then hand her the flowers. I'm going to ask her out to eat. We'll have our dessert first, an ice cream bribe, then to the restaurant. Then we will go to the docks and we will rent one of those stupid swan paddleboats because the only thing that makes Bellemere happier than when she is causing is trouble is when I am doing something that makes me look ridiculous. There will be plenty of opportunity for me to be ridiculous at that. Especially while looking like this. Please tell me I don't look like a monkey in this monkey suit." He pulled at the necktie, loosening it a bit.

His mother handed him the flowers. "You look fine, Gen." 

"She's gonna laugh." He looked in the mirror one more time. He felt uncomfortable out of his uniform.

"She laughs at everything," his mother said, as she tightened the tie back up. She patted him on his cheek and then firmly pushed him out the door. "Good luck, son."

He made it out of town without being seen by too many people. He really didn't want this to get around. It would undermine what little authority he had in Kokoyashi.

As he walked up the path, he noticed that Bellemere's cottage needed a new coat of paint and the unkempt grove was starting to spread to the front lawn. He'd gotten on her case about the mowing around the path, but she never listened to him. Then he firmly pushed his criticisms out of his head. He wouldn't be in this mess in the first place if he could have been more diplomatic.

He gripped the flowers a little tighter and knocked on the front door, praying that she wasn't in. 

"Bellemere?" He knocked again, but there was no answer.

He tried to look in through one of the shutters, but found that he couldn't.

He'd reminded her a thousand times about keeping the windows shut when she went out of the house and she'd always laughed at him, saying that there wasn't anything on the island that she was afraid of. She kept those windows opened to spite him.

And now they were shut.

He listened carefully for any kind of indication that she might be inside, but all he could hear was the pounding of his heart.

He took one step back, raised his leg, and kicked. The door slammed against the wall, revealing a dark cottage. He found another mind-boggling sight; the counter was meticulously clean. The empty bottle collection that Bellemere had called her 'company of dead soldiers' was missing. The ashtray that was usually littered with the corpses of cigarettes was clean. 

The emptiness about the main room screamed of finality. He charged into the bedroom, fearing what he would see.

==============

Doc saw him from his front porch as he came up the street. Gen was slouched over; flowers hanging carelessly from the hand at his side, the other hand firmly shoved into his pocket. His eyes were firmly on the road in front of him.

Women coming back from the shops and men returning home did not hail their local law enforcer as they usually did. In the space of one short hour, the word had gotten out about Gen's trip up to the cottage and it had already been deemed an impossible mission. The blank and serious look on his face confirmed everyone's suspicions.

Doc stepped off his porch and into the main street as Gen approached. "Hey."

Gen turned up the path and sat on the stoop. He looked as wilted as the flowers he was carrying. 

"How'd it go?"

Gen handed him an envelope. It had a dirty sandal print on it.

"What's this?"

"I found it on the welcome mat."

Doc stared at, not knowing what to make of it.

"It's addressed to 'Everyone.' Go ahead and read it." Doc thought he heard a tremor in Gen's voice. With nimble fingers, he opened the envelope and took out the letter, which smelt faintly of oranges and cigarettes.

__

Dear Everyone,

I joined the Marines. Keep an eye on the house for me. I left the key under the mat.

Bellemere

Doc finally forced the stunning news out of his brain and into the air. "I'll be gobsmacked! The Marines! Bellemere joined the Marines!"

Gen tossed the flowers on the ground, loosened his tie, and burst out laughing. "I'm saved."

===========================

Author's Notes: 

First off, thanks for the encouragement everyone! I won't be doing author notes for every chapter, but I figured I should do a little explaining before moving on to the next section.

'Halo Jump' is a parachute jump. It is done at high altitudes above an enemy's radar; the parachutist free falls and opens the chute under the enemy's radar – sometimes falling as far as two miles in free fall. Room for mistakes is nonexistent and its one of the most dangerous jumps to do. It almost always takes the enemy by surprise. Metaphor; I like it.

I am not pegging ages in this fan fic, but I am working under the assumption that Bellemere is between the ages of 16 and 20. That would mean she was between 21 and 25 when she returns to Kokoyashi with Nami and Nojiko and in her early thirties when you know who comes to the village. I think Gen is older by a couple of years, but that they are still contemporaries. If anyone has any information or corrections on these assumptions, please tell me. I like to be accurate.

Part Two – 'The Basics' is in the works. This will take a little longer as I have to read up on nautical terminology and do some in-depth study into real life Marine and Navy training while taking into account the vagaries of the One Piece world.


	6. And It Won't Be Long

Part Two – The Basics

Chapter 1 – And It Won't Be Long

Gen had slept the whole night through. He'd woken up at seven and had a leisurely breakfast. He'd strolled to the office and then read the newspaper from front page to back. He'd had some coffee, one milk, no sugar, then gone over the reports sent from the regional office.

He could get used to this schedule. Unfortunately he knew that his reprieve would be short. Bellemere would be back any day now.

Convincing his mother of the fact was proving difficult.

"I don't know how you can sit here and do paperwork when one of the citizens of your village has been kidnapped!" She glared at him from across his desk, annoyed that her son, who was usually so pliant, chose at this moment to be an officer of the law. Just like his father, she thought.

"Bellemere wasn't coerced onto the ship," Gen repeated patiently. "I spoke with the men at the docks. She talked with a few captains, discovered which one was heading in the direction she wanted to go, and then walked up the gangplank. There was no kicking or screams or cries for help. In short, there was no dramatic kidnapping. Bellemere volunteered."

"And where did she find the money to pay for this voyage?" his mother asked triumphantly, certain that she had found a flaw in his argument.

"Marine recruits are given free passage on whatever ship takes them to Kerris Island; the captain of the ship is paid by the Marines upon arrival." It was a stroke of genius on the part of the Marines for coming up with that idea. It kept the recruits – and the supply ships – coming regularly to the out of the way training post. Gen reached for a pencil so that he could start his paperwork.

"What is that sitting in the pencil holder I bought for your birthday?" she asked stridently, intent on keeping the argument going.

Gen glanced at the pinwheel. He'd found it slightly crushed in his uniform the day before. "It's something I won."

His mother sniffed. "It's not very professional to have toys in the office."

He turned his attention to the memos he'd penciled onto the first notice. It wasn't that interesting, but perhaps his mother would get the hint that the 'case' concerning Bellemere was closed. "Can you wait two months before seeing her again?" he asked.

"Two months? Why do you say that?"

"Two weeks of sailing in fine weather to get to the training base. Another two weeks before she quits. Then two more weeks to get back here." He looked up from his report. "I stretched the estimate to two months to take into account bad weather and general Bellemere-ness. She'll manage to get into trouble either coming or going and that'll delay her homecoming."

"They give recruits a chance to quit?" His mother had assumed that even pretending to be interested in the Marines led to an iron clad contract and the loss of your soul.

"A few years back, the Marines were accused of press ganging. They began allowing recruits to quit to counter those claims."

"Well, that's alright then, if she can come home when she wants," his mother said, finally acceding the point. "You two will be the death of me. First you run off to the Academy to become an officer and now Bellemere pulls this crazy stunt."

Gen remembered those arguments. She'd not been too thrilled about his decision, saying that his chosen career was a dangerous one. Perhaps being an officer was hazardous on the larger islands, but the worst thing that happened in the village was local kids' throwing toilet paper over their neighbors' trees. 

Oh, yes, and there was Bellemere – but she was out of his hair for now.

His mother put his lunch on his desk. "It's egg salad. Make sure to finish it all."

"Yes, mom," he said, not looking up from his paperwork.

He waited until the door shut behind her, then let out an involuntary sigh of relief. He was glad he had laid his mother's fears to rest about Bellemere's safety, but the fact that Bellemere was gone would rankle her for some time. She'd have to blame the girl's departure on someone – and that would be him.

He frowned and pressed the pencil harder into the notice. All he'd said to Bellemere was that she would have disappointed her parents with her behavior the night before. He hadn't said that they would be disappointed in _her_. He certainly hadn't said that the only way to fix that mistake was to join the Marines.

It made no sense that a girl with an unruly streak a mile wide would choose to join one of the most conservative military establishments in the world. But then again when did she ever do anything that made sense? 

She'd gotten a silly idea into her head. She'd realize her mistake and come back home when the opportunity presented itself. He had no doubt about that.

Gen made a note to himself that he should get the door to the cottage fixed before she returned.


	7. Goldfish Bowl

Chapter 2 – Goldfish Bowl

"This is Kerris Island – a branch post of the Marine Corps Training Division for East Blue. Get a good look at it because this is all you will know until your training is completed. We will be taking _you_" – the Marine spat out the word like it was a bug in his mouth – "and teaching you what it takes to survive in the Marines."

On the side, watching the proceedings, an old veteran of the 'new recruit molding process' watched the proceedings with a shark's concentration. Her eyes scanned the rag tag lines that had been formed hastily and without care. 

Soon she would discover why these boys and girls had taken this step. Some were running from their previous life, some were here to prove something, others truly believed in the Marine mission.

These were the unformed, the untried, and the insolent.

And at the end of these fifteen weeks, they would be Marines.

===============

Bellemere rocked back and forth on her heels, the stub of her surreptitiously lit cigarette hanging out of the corner of her mouth. She wondered when dinner was; she'd heard on the ship that had brought her here that all the meals the Marines had were huge.

She ignored the Marine at the front and took stock of her surroundings. Kerris Island was a shadeless sandy place, devoid of anything but scrub, driftwood, and rock. From where she was, the beach did not stop until it hit a rocky outcrop in the distance. The administration buildings near the docks, where she had just got off the ship, were built on top of concrete, which had been poured over the land in a haphazard way.

If she extended the 'Goldfish Theory of Land Creation,' she would have to say that the goldfish in question had been ill with a gastrointestinal disease when he'd created this particular island.

She slapped at the sand flies that were biting her arms and wondered when the guy in front was going to stop blabbing. She'd gotten the point that this wasn't going to be a picnic. Maybe having to listen to him was part of the training process. If you could listen to him without dying of boredom, you passed your first test.

She almost cheered when he wrapped it up. "Females, line up on the left. Males on the right," ordered one of the Marines standing off to the side. When the group began to slowly sort itself out, the instructor barked again. "You are wasting precious Marine time. Move it, move it, move it!"

Bellemere picked up her small pack and dropped her cigarette, grinding the butt out into the sand before heading towards the line.

A hand clamped on her shoulder and she was tossed onto her butt. She sat up and glared at her assailant, ready to say a few choice words, but the look on the Marine's face encouraged her to keep her mouth shut.

The woman was tall and dressed in standard Marine whites like most of the folks going in and out of the gates. Her brilliant red hair was pulled back into a serviceable ponytail, but the thing that really stuck out was the scar that started at the corner of the left side of her face. It extended her smile unnaturally to a point halfway up her cheek, giving the impression that she constantly amused – an amusement that did not show in her eyes.

"Pick that up, newby," the woman ordered. Bellemere did as she was told, but every move she made was a study in impertinence. This woman looked tough, but Bellemere had seen scarier scars on the men and women working at the docks around her island. Bellemere held up the cigarette butt. "Now what? Do I have to eat it or something?"

"So this newby is a funny one," the woman said harshly, spitting out each syllable. She held out her hand and Bellemere deposited the stub into the open palm. "Get over to that line and stop wasting my time."

Bellemere loped over to the line forming on the left side of the loading dock. If that was as bad as the instructors got, Bellemere knew she had it made. The new recruits fell into something resembling a line and followed a Marine sergeant into one of the buildings where they were quickly and efficiently issued their equipment, their uniforms, and their rucksacks. Then they were ushered into the hot sun again. 

The sergeant held up a rucksack. "Pack it in, newbies. Time to go to your new home." He turned to another Marine woman. "You ready to take them, Private?"

The woman nodded and stepped forward. She was short and had blonde hair.

"I'm Private First Class Nyuta," the Marine said. Her eyes flitted from face to face, registering nothing more than irritated boredom. "I intend on getting back in time for dinner, so if you can't keep up, follow the path. You'll get to the barracks eventually."

With that, she strode off, leaving the recruits scrambling to shove their newly issued items any which way into their rucksacks. Bellemere jammed the last of her supplies in the ruck and chased after the figure that was already stalking away.

============

Author's notes: Not very action packed is it? But as the saying goes, the service consists of long periods of boredom punctuated with short bursts of pants-wetting excitement. 


	8. Grit

Chapter 3 - Grit

They had been walking up the western cliffs for hours. The incessant wind blew spray and dirt against the rock wall that loomed on their right, constantly showering the group with grit. Bellemere amended her theory - the giant goldfish in question had been eating a lot of fiber before it made this island.

Bellemere's rucksack bit into her shoulders and she could feel a piece of her equipment poking into the small of her back. She wished she had time to stop and adjust the contents. To make matters worse, she was dying for a smoke, but the pace the guide was setting didn't leave time for her to get out a match.

She didn't know how long it would take to get to wherever they were going. When someone in the group had asked, the guide had snapped that they should pay attention to their footing. Then she'd picked up the walking pace. The group of women following her, which numbered around sixty or seventy, had quickly fallen into silence that was only punctuated by labored breathing. Bellemere was at the back of the group, partly because that was where she felt most comfortable and partly because her lungs were on fire.

The guide wasn't kidding about keeping an eye on their footing. The path was narrow, forcing the group to walk single file. The edge was only a foot away and it was a straight drop off to the water below, a good three stories down. Not fatal – but definitely not a fall Bellemere wanted to take, especially while weighed down with a huge rucksack. That water looked _cold_.

Suddenly the path had opened up, leaving a pocket in the cliff face. The guide stopped so quickly that the newbies who weren't paying close attention found themselves getting very friendly with the rucksack in front of them. "All of you get in here close!" The guide shouted to be heard over the wind.

The group pulled together and discovered that the pocket was actually a small opening that led into larger hollow in the cliffs. It was open to the sky, but protected from the wind. Boulders were scattered around the sandy ground.

"Lunch time," the guide called out. "There're water casks behind those rocks over there. Drink your fill while you can."

Bellemere sighed with relief and let her rucksack slip off her shoulders. Many around her did the same.

"So what's for lunch?" someone asked. 

__

Hear, hear, said Bellemere's stomach. _What is for lunch?_

The guide shrugged. "I don't know. What'd you bring?"

__

What's this? Is this some kind of joke? cried Bellemere's stomach loudly. A few of the women standing close to her gave her strange looks.

Someone else had the same thoughts. "What we brought? No one said anything about bringing our own lunch!"

"I thought the Marines were supposed to provide for us?" another one asked. A low rumbling of complaints washed through the group, like the first tremor of an earthquake or rather like the sound of Bellemere's stomach.

"Did you sign any papers?" Nyuta fired back. "No, so you aren't Marines. You're not even recruits. And the Marines don't feed _civilians._" The venom in that one word brought the angry muttering to a halt.

"How much time do we have?" another girl called out.

"More, if you all stop moaning." The guide hefted herself up on a boulder and leaned against the craggy face. She pulled her cap over her eyes and ignored them.

Bellemere went to the water barrel behind the rocks and waited her turn. She drank until she felt she would burst and then she went back to her rucksack and began digging around for the flashlight that had been poking her in the ribs for the past five hundred miles or so. She also listened to the talk that flowed around her. Some of the women had met on the same boat, others were from the same town or island. Bellemere realized that she was one of the few to just pick up and leave. Apparently some of them knew enough to bring food – they were sharing it with their friends. The rest talked about preparation and training and studying.

Bellemere wondered what there was to study for – killing people seemed simple enough. Point and shoot; stab and slash. Presto: one dead pirate.

Once everything was arranged to her satisfaction, Bellemere decided to award herself with a cigarette. Then she felt the uncomfortable sensation of eyes drilling into her. 

"Hey, you got another one?" Nyuta's cap was askew on her head as she peered at Bellemere from her rock perch.

"Sure do." Bellemere held one out. The guide jumped down and covered the space between them in a flash. She took it gratefully and cupped her hand around the end to protect the flame as Bellemere lit it for her. The woman inhaled deeply which deepened the fine crow's feet at the corner of her mouth. It was the only thing that betrayed the Marine's age; she looked like she could go at this pace all day. 

A corkscrew curl escaped from its bun and Nyuta pushed it back. "Thanks."

"Name's Bellemere," she replied, tossing the spent match over the side of the cliff.

Nyuta shook her head. "Only for a few more hours. Then your name's 'Recruit.'" She exhaled with obvious enjoyment. "It's nice to have a smoke."

Bellemere cocked an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"What do I mean? Hang on." Nyuta ashed and stood up. "Oi! Newbies! Listen up. Until you finish your training, you will find that on Kerris Island, recruits do not drink! They do not smoke! And they do not have sex! Unless you swing a certain way," she added. Nyuta grinned at the shocked looks then took her seat next to Bellemere again. "Yeah, so if you don't finish your pack before we get to the barracks, I'll keep it. And I won't, you know, tell any of the instructors that you brought 'disallowable' materials onto the island."

"Gee, thanks." Bellemere rolled her eyes and Nyuta cracked her second smile for the day. 

"Don't mention it, newbie."

A woman, her dark hair pulled into a low ponytail, looked at Bellemere and Nyuta with disdain. "Why are you two smoking anyway? It won't help your PT scores."

Nyuta shrugged and Bellemere wondered what the hell 'PT' was. She didn't like the tone in that woman's voice though. She took a long drag and blew smoke pointedly in her direction. The wind carried it right into her face, leaving her choking and coughing – over-dramatically in Bellemere's opinion.

"You two…" Nyuta cautioned.

"I wonder how much longer it's going to be," someone said wearily.

"Not much longer. See here?" A lanky brunette motioned for people to give her room. The newbies pulled back their feet and she began drawing a map in the dirt with her finger. "This is the island, right? Three leaf clover pattern. The main port is on the stem. New female recruits on this leaf" – she pointed at the one of the left - "male recruits on this leaf" – then at the one on the right. "At the top is the training grounds where we'll have our last few weeks of training. And in the middle, to keep everything and everyone separated; the rock hills. The only way around the island is the path we're taking, which follows the cliffs. And we're at the highest point now. We walk down the rest of the way, don't we, Guide Nyuta?"

All eyes turned to their guide. "Yeah," Nyuta said grudgingly. She'd wanted them to think they were climbing up for another couple of hours. The map-drawer was too clever for her own good. 

Bellemere's stomach decided to join in on the conversation. The people talking around her paused.

"Impressive," Nyuta said. She rummaged in her pocket for a moment and tossed something to her. "It's not much."

Bellemere unwrapped the handkerchief and then tore into the smashed crackers she found. Crumbs flew out of her full mouth. "I'm not complaining." 

Nyuta peered up at the sky, stood up, and bellowed, "Five minutes!"

Bellemere cringed and swallowed hastily.

"Mind if I have one for the road?" Nyuta stretched and brushed at the skin of dirt that had grown on her whites.

"And a match," Bellemere said, palming off the items.

"What about your pack?"

Bellemere grinned and pushed it into the recesses of her rucksack. "The instructors have to find it first." 

"Oh ho! Someone likes to live dangerously." Nyuta put her arm around Bellemere and leaned in, making like a conspirator. "Let me give you a piece of advice, since you shared a cig with me. Cruces already has her eye on you. Take care."

"Cruces?" Bellemere had only met one Marine so far. "Is that the redhead? The one with the scar?"

"That would be her."

"But what did I do?"

"Someone has to be the example. It may be you. Or I could be wrong."

Bellemere shrugged and repeated a phrase her father had often said. "The only thing she can do is kill me."

"Wrong. Instructors aren't allowed to kill anyone, not anymore. But you'll see what they can do." A stream of smoke snaked out of the guide's nostrils. "And you'll think death is a blessing."

With that encouraging piece of advice, Nyuta walked towards the exit. "Moving out, newbies. Let's go!" 

Bellemere picked up her rucksack and started after their guide. She fell behind a few of the other more motivated women. When she stepped out onto the path, the wind almost knocked her over. She hadn't realized how strong it had been. She remembered that they were halfway to the camp and it was all downhill from here. The woman in front of her seemed to be having some trouble and was struggling to get her arms through one of the straps.

"Here, let me help," Bellemere said.

"No, it's okay. I got it." The strap got stuck halfway up her arm and she hefted her pack up, trying to get it loose. 

Then the woman stumbled and fell over the edge of the cliff.


	9. If My Main Don't Open Wide

Chapter 4 - If My Main Don't Open Wide.  
  
Bellemere dropped her rucksack. Her calf muscles bunched in her legs and she sprang forward.  
  
The ocean eats things.  
  
The temperature of the water hit her like a fist. Bellemere pushed and pulled and kicked her way to the surface, gasping for breath. She willed her eyes open, blinking the stinging saltwater away and cursing her long hair.  
  
The girl who had fallen was being pulled under by the weight of her rucksack. Two strong kicks had Bellemere at the girl's side. She tried to tug the tight straps off of the woman's shoulders, but the newbie was flailing around as she tried to stay afloat.  
  
"Catch!" A flotation device bounced off the back of Bellemere's head. She grabbed it and shoved it into the girl's arms. Then she almost had her face taken off by a barnacle encrusted hull.  
  
Bellemere pushed the girl back and kicked hard, trying to get away from the small sailboat before it ran them both over.  
  
"Easy, Hellgrau, you almost killed them!"  
  
A barrel-chested Marine with a full mustache stood at the rail. He leaned over and grinned at the two girls floating in the water. "Hey, look at this. We've got two of them. Best catch we've had so far."  
  
Her leap and the cold water had ripped away any gratitude their rescuer deserved and Bellemere yelled, "Stop gawking! Pull her up into the ship!"  
  
The Marine laughed and hooked his hands around the other girl. In one smooth motion, he pulled her, rucksack and all, over the side of the boat. He took a long look at Bellemere, who was glaring back at him like a furious, soaked cat. "This one's small, Hellgrau. Maybe we should throw her back."  
  
Bellemere's teeth chattered together angrily. "Fuh-fuh-fuh-"  
  
He crossed his arms and waited.  
  
"Fuh-freezing!" she managed.  
  
The Marine laughed and grabbed a fistful of her shirt. He yanked her out of the water and the next thing she knew she and the other girl were bundled into heavy wool blankets.  
  
Another Marine, who must have been Hellgrau, was standing aft and holding a large mirror in his hand. "Well?" he asked his partner.  
  
"Wet, cold, and kicking. They're fine." The mustached Marine shoved hot mugs into the girls' hands.  
  
The mirror glittered in the sun. There was an answering flash at the top of the cliff.  
  
Bellemere gaped. "What was that?"  
  
The Marine who'd pulled her into the boat nodded up at the cliffs. "Someone always falls. We're just telling the guide that everything is O.K. Now drink your cocoa before it gets cold."  
  
"And who the hell are you to tell me what to do?" Bellemere spat, wrapping the blanket around her.  
  
The other newbie was horrified. "You're speaking to a Captain!"  
  
Bellemere turned her fury on the woman next to her. "I don't care if he's the admiral! And watch where you're walking next time!"  
  
"A fifty foot leap and listen to her!" The Marine roared with laughter and stuck out his hand, big as a bear's paw. "Captain Garp."  
  
Bellemere juggled her mug into her left hand and shook hands with him. "I'm Bellemere."  
  
"And that's Captain Hellgrau." Garp hiked his thumb at the Marine standing at the wheel of the boat.  
  
"Hey," Bellemere said in greeting. Garp's jovial attitude and the sharp taste of rum in her cocoa had launched her into a better mood.  
  
Hellgrau regarded her disdainfully. "You fell too?"  
  
Her good mood disappeared like mists in the hot sun. "Do you think I'm stupid? I jumped!"  
  
Hellgrau's expression easily conveyed what and who he thought was stupid. He cocked his eyebrow. "Wanted to be a hero? Show everyone how brave you are?"  
  
Bellemere poked at the girl sitting next to her. "She could have hit her head or broken her arm or anything and we were wearing those huge rucksacks."  
  
Garp looked pointedly at the single set of equipment he'd pulled into the boat.  
  
"Well, she was wearing a huge rucksack," Bellemere amended  
  
"At least you had the common sense to take yours off - before you jumped off a cliff into unknown waters to save someone you just met, that is," Hellgrau said sharply.  
  
Bellemere glared at him. "Is that bad?"  
  
"You'll find out when we get to the training camp," the lieutenant said. "Garp, the newbie's leaking."  
  
It was true. The girl was biting her lip to keep the sobs in, but her nose was red and her eyes were brilliant with tears.  
  
"Why are you crying? Are you broken or something?" Bellemere asked impatiently. She didn't have any use for tears, especially when everything was fine. Tears after the fact were a waste.  
  
"No," the girl whispered, wiping her eyes. "It's just that I wanted this so much."  
  
"Yeah? Great. Good for you." Bellemere took another gulp of her cocoa, then waved her empty mug in Garp's direction. "Can I get more of this?"  
  
"You can have mine." The woman handed it over, and Bellemere recognized that this was the newbie who'd drawn the map in the sand.  
  
Bellemere softened a bit, and tried to cheer her up. "Look on the bright side. At least we don't have to carry our stuff anymore. Now we get a free boat ride to camp. No harm, no foul."  
  
"You don't know anything." The woman pulled the blanket further up her shoulders and stared out to sea.  
  
Bellemere looked to Garp for an explanation.  
  
"She fell, so she's disqualified for this round of training. She'll have to wait until the next cycle," he replied.  
  
Bellemere turned to the despondent woman. "Lucky us. We get a break."  
  
"A break?" the newbie muttered. "I don't want a break. I want to be a Marine."  
  
"And no one's ever jumped before, so who knows what you'll get - probably fire duty for the next fifteen weeks," Garp added.  
  
"How long is this pleasure cruise going to take?" Bellemere asked, letting her gaze follow the cliff's vertical ascent. She couldn't see the other newbies who were trekking along that path, and she enjoyed a moment of malicious glee imagining the fun that they were having, battling the wind and grit on their way down.  
  
"Four hours," Hellgrau said curtly.  
  
"Then we'd best get comfortable." Bellemere stuck her hand out from under the blanket and offered it to the girl she'd saved. "I'm Bellemere of Kokoyashi Village, which you've probably never heard of."  
  
The girl pushed a string of wet hair out of her eyes and shook Bellemere's hand. "I'm Avianne Finn. Call me Avi."  
  
Hellgrau whistled lowly. His cynical expression changed. "Finn? As in Commodore Finn? And Major Finn and Captain Finn and there's one more."  
  
"Warrant Officer Finn," Avi said.  
  
"What is a South Blue Finn doing at Kerris Island?" Garp asked.  
  
"Trying to get away from the South Blue Finns," Avi replied dourly.  
  
Bellemere listened to the exchange with interest. "You're famous?" she asked. "Then I'm glad I jumped after you. You could be useful."  
  
Avi was shocked at Bellemere's blatant opportunism, until Bellemere grinned. It still took the girl a moment to realize Bellemere was pulling her leg. "I don't think my name will do you much good now," Avi said ruefully. "I'll be waiting for another month before I start training."  
  
Garp leaned up against the rail and beckoned the other Marine to join them. "Come on and be sociable, Hellgrau. We might as well have fun while we've got time to kill."  
  
"I wouldn't be in this mess if it weren't for you," the other captain muttered from under his cap. "Stupid scheme."  
  
"No one made you do it," Garp said amiably. "And it worked a hundred times before."  
  
"What'd you do?" Bellemere asked.  
  
"We were smuggling contraband onto the island," Garp explained.  
  
"But that's - that's - that's unscrupulous!" Avi sputtered.  
  
"The officers don't like the rules any more than the recruits do. Unfortunately, we just happened to get caught by the only officer on the island who cares and now we have newbie trawling duty for a month. I think it's a great time to relax, but my partner doesn't agree," Garp hiked his thumb at the other captain.  
  
"Don't call me your partner," Hellgrau growled.  
  
"Partner in crime, whether you like it or not. If you hadn't been so keen on getting those smokes - "  
  
"Two words. Jelly donuts." Hellgrau crossed his arms. "Not to mention what you didn't tell me about."  
  
"Didn't want to worry you," Garp said evasively.  
  
"Wrong! You didn't want me to say, "Hell no, I'm not helping you bring a dog onto the island, you crazy fool!"" Hellgrau retorted.  
  
Bellemere laughed at the banter, but the other newbie didn't seem to find it as funny. She had the same dark look on her face that Gen got whenever he heard a dirty joke. So she told Avi the same thing she always told Gen. "You need to lighten up."  
  
Avi mumbled something that Bellemere couldn't quite hear.  
  
"Say again?"  
  
"I said, I can't believe you're going to go into training, while I have to wait for a month."  
  
The tone of Avi's voice pricked at something in Bellemere, reminding her of people and conversations she had put out of her mind since leaving the island. "What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
Avi sighed. "Nothing. It doesn't mean a thing. Like you said, it was stupid to have fallen. I should count myself lucky that I'm not being shipped back home."  
  
Bellemere thought it was useless to worry about something they had no control over. "We're with two Marines who got caught smuggling jelly donuts. You don't find that the least bit funny?"  
  
A glimmer of a grin reached Avi's lips. "That's better," Bellemere proclaimed. She held up Avi's mug. "Captain Garp, could you top us off?"  
  
"Certainly, newbie."  
  
After their cups were filled, Bellemere loudly declared, "I propose a round of toasts. I'll go first." She stood and held her mug on high. "Here's to the highly overrated advice to "look before you leap.""  
  
"Here's to dogs," Garp said after a moment's thought.  
  
"To fools," Hellgrau said, gesturing at Garp.  
  
"To the reason I'm here. To the Marines," Avi added quietly.  
  
They drank. As Bellemere finished her second draught, she reflected that being in the Marines wouldn't be so bad if there were plenty of times like this.  
  
==============================  
  
A few hours later, the newbie-trawler pulled into the docks of the women's training camp. The two girls craned their necks to see what their new home looked like.  
  
Bellemere was decidedly unimpressed. "I've seen piles of driftwood that looks better than this."  
  
"It's a training camp, not a beach resort," Hellgrau said curtly as they walked off the landing and onto the sandy ground.  
  
"Look - there are the barracks where we'll be staying and the halls where we'll be taking our lessons and the chow hall and beyond that is the training field and, oh my goodness, is that the obstacle course?" Avi asked breathlessly as they walked to the administrative offices.  
  
"Only a Finn could get this excited over a training camp," Garp said remarked to Hellgrau.  
  
Bellemere was glad that the other newbie was distracted by the training camp and not thinking about their meeting with the Commander. It gave Bellemere time to cement the details of her plan.  
  
They entered the low, unassuming building. A lieutenant greeted them as soon as they walked in the door. She gestured down a hallway. "Captains Garp and Hellgrau. If you would like to wait in the officer's lounge."  
  
Garp's thick mustache bristled as he gave the two girls an encouraging smile. Then the rescuers left the newbies to their fate at the hands of the Commander.  
  
"The Commander would first like to see the.er, 'tripping' girl?" The lieutenant was not quite sure what his superior had meant by that phrase, but one of the newbies bolted up and headed for the office, relieving him of having to ask for an explanation.  
  
"Wait! What are you doing?" the other newbie cried.  
  
Bellemere ignored Avi and slipped into the office, shutting the door quickly behind her. The commander's chair was turned around so it faced the window that looked over the training grounds. Bellemere didn't waste any time and the lies began to gush out.  
  
"Look, Commander. I was an idiot and I fell off the cliff. If my friend hadn't jumped off, I would have drowned."  
  
She waited for some kind of response, but none came. Bellmere barreled on ahead. "Give her fire duty for the next month or so, but don't make her wait with me for the next training period to begin. I'll take the blame."  
  
The chair swiveled around and Bellemere blurted out, "What the hell?"  
  
"That would be 'What the hell, Commander.'" Nyuta, the Marine who had guided her along the cliffs, scowled. "Call your friend in here and we'll begin."  
  
========================  
  
Author Notes - I hope I haven't lost your attention! Garp is the way I like to spell it; if there's a canon spelling, feel free to pass it on. I'm going on vacation for a month - so no updates. However, new year, new resolutions = new chapters. 


End file.
